


Blood

by orphan_account



Series: Skin Deep [4]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, Gore, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6922846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shouldn't feel sorry for the thing, he'd been evicted because of it. That's what he told himself, anyway.</p>
<p>Trowa felt humans were dramatic. It would be easier for both of them if Duo stopped pushing him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood

He guessed he should consider himself lucky. He would be the first person to see – or, well, identify – a skinwalker in almost six-hundred years. But having nearly had his throat ripped out by a wannabe-zombie, covered in said-wannabe-zombie’s insides, and the damn cat that ruined his currently using the wannabe-zombie’s outsides for a new look… well, he didn’t feel very lucky.

Trowa was a better zombie than the wannabe had been. Its limbs jerked as it moved, nearly falling over as it knelt to pick up the discarded cat flesh. The matted fur was soaked in zombie guts, barely resembling a cat anymore, and the sight was enough to bring a sharp pain to his heart. He’d always had a soft spot for animals; well, ones that didn’t get him kicked out of the first apartment he’d ever been able to have to himself. And he knew that, in a sense, the cat had been dead for a long time, the fur merely stolen by the skinwalker for its own use.

“I’m sorry,” Duo said, instinctively. Trowa looked up at him, the intense gaze fixed on him resembling the same one that the cat had always had. It must have been a Trowa-thing, not a cat thing.

“About what?” Trowa asked, and Duo gestured to the limp cat suit clutched between his hands.

“That. I mean, if I hadn’t fallen, you’d still be, well, like that, and not this.”

Trowa stared at him long enough for Duo to realize he’d said something rather stupid, apparently. Then the alleyway lit up brightly with the skinwalker’s power, and when his arms dropped away from his face, the spots of light fading from his vision, Cat-Trowa was sitting on the alley floor, lapping at his fur, the pile of skin that had been the wannabe-zombie now joining the rest of the mess it’d left behind.

He'd never seen a cat look so smug.

He pulled his cell phone out from his ruined pants, pushing the button on the side. The screen stayed dark, and blood dripped from between the plastic casing. Heaving a long breath through his nose, he shoved the phone back into his pockets, ignoring the squelch as his knuckles dragged against soaked denim, and how liquid rolled between socks and sneakers as he stormed from the alleyway. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that a small, black furry form would be trailing him like a shadow.

It took four blocks to find a payphone. At this time of night, it was easier to avoid being seen, but he still felt rather exposed as he stood in the lighted booth, blood pooling around his feet, some dripping from the end of his braid, holding the receiver to his face as he waited for the call to connect.

“Hello?” the tinny voice sounded as tired as Duo felt, and Duo leaned against the foggy glass as he closed his eyes in relief.

“It’s Duo,” he said as a greeting, and Wufei’s voice came through louder, more alert.

“What happened? I don’t recognize your number—”

“My phone’s dead. So is Relena, if you want to let her know next time you see her. Fucking _zombie_ , Chang. It’s not funny!” Laughter rang through the line.

“Well, Maxwell,” Wufei said, his voice dancing with amusement, “we know how you love zombies.”

“Well, there’s more to love,” Duo said, voice dropping, eyes darting to the black form sitting outside the booth, large eyes scanning the road for any curious eavesdroppers. “Could you let Relena know I need someone to come scrub an alley? There’s… quite a mess. Most of its on me, but I vomited in the alley and the last thing we need is to break me out of prison for what appears to be a rather gory serial murder—”

“Why couldn’t you--?”

“That’s the ‘more to love’ part. I can’t—I don’t even know where to start. It’s your fault. You let the damn cat in.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Nothing makes sense anymore!” Duo shouted. He took a deep breath, rubbing at his forehead, feeling dry blood crusting. “Sorry. It’s—It’s been a long night.”

“Do you need a lift?” Wufei asked, voice calmer, more serious. Duo ignored the warning to add more change, fiddling with the metal cord that connected the mouthpiece to the phone box.

“Yeah. I’m on the East side, ‘bout two blocks from Howie’s toward Main. I gotta get out of sight, but I’ll make sure the cat finds you.”

“…I’ll pretend that makes sense.”

“It will,” Duo promised. Trowa’s eyes met his through the glass folding door. “I promise.”

* * *

Humans were dramatic. When his human used that word again, his pet got all excited.

“You’re saying—are you pulling my leg?”

His human shook his head, lifting a hand to rub at his face, before pausing and staring at it, lowering it with a grimace.

“I’m not joshin’ you. If it wasn’t being such a pain in my _ass_ \--” Trowa wrinkled his nose at this, tail twitching. He was nowhere near his human’s rear. “You’d have more than my word to rely on.”

“I mean, you don’t lie, you’ve never been a liar,” his human’s pet said, fingers tapping on the wheel that steered the metal death trap. He’d seen cars before, having watched them come into existence years and years ago, but until now, he’d never been _inside_ one. “But, well, do you know what it means? No one’s seen a skinwalker in—”

“Over six-hundred years. I read the same books, Wu,” his human cut in. Trowa stretched forward, bumping his cheek against Duo’s hand, a purr rising through his body as the dark magic licked at his fur. “I swear to god, Trowa, if you bite me, I’m going to throw you out this car.”

“Don’t do that!” the pet shouted, the car swerving hard enough for Trowa to have to dig his claws into the tanned cow flesh to prevent himself from falling off the seat. As it was, his human had to press his messy hand against it, leaving behind residue. Trowa lapped at it curiously, then wrinkled his nose.

It was useless now. It wouldn’t fill his stomach.

“She might be the _last_ skinwalker, Duo! You can’t throw her out—”

“Watch the road, dumbass! I wouldn’t actually do that, I’m not fucking crazy!”

Trowa rolled his eyes, claws tearing the useless cow skin as they came to a stop. When the door opened, Trowa jumped out, trotting along the cement and up to the door, turning and waiting for the two humans to catch up. Being a cat had some disadvantages, and one of those was the door made for humans only. He’d managed to tear enough of the old door to get inside, before his human came to live with his pet, but this one was made of wood and metal, and did not give under his claws.

The pet human obliged his silent demand, sticking a key into the lock and twisting, pushing the door inward and letting Trowa cross the threshold first. His nostrils flared, picking up no new scents from the last time he’d been in here. It still only smelled like ash, black magic, and Trowa. Which was exactly how it should be.

“If she’s actually a skinwalker, she has to have a nest, or a den, or another place she’s living.”

Trowa paused, turning to look at the pet. His human was smart, so it made sense that he’d surround himself with similar people.

“Why?” His human asked, pulling the ruined clothes over his head and throwing them straight into the trash. The pet human was digging out towels and soap, the sharp bite of the cleanser burning Trowa’s nostrils.

“Skinwalkers don’t only have one skin they use. And they would need a place to store those skins when they aren’t being used, as well as a place to rest and renew their skins. She’s been leaving for weeks now for a day here and there, she’s most likely been going back to her own nest and taking care of herself, since we didn’t know what she was.”

The pet human’s eyes fixed on him, and Trowa straightened his back, tail flicking and ears perking forward.

“Am I right?” he asked, and Trowa cocked his head, before closing his eyes and nodding. “I am also going to assume that you won’t show us where that is, either.”

Trowa’s ears pressed flat to his head, a growl ripping from his throat and filling the room. His human, who was sitting on the floor covered in the cleanser and scrubbing at his skin, knocked the bottle over at the sound.

“That’s a no, Wufei. Back off.”

“So protective,” the pet teased his human. Trowa flicked his tail, growling again in warning. He raised his hands as if to stop Trowa from attacking.

“I wasn’t asking you to. I was confirming that you wouldn’t. Could you—maybe, like, show up in a skin we could talk with you in better? Where you could answer us back? Next time you come around, that is? I mean, I’m not sure what happened earlier, but you switched skins really fast, and that had to take a lot of energy. Are you hungry, or can I get you anything to help?”

Trowa flicked his ears, getting annoyed with all the questions. So he trotted forward, ignoring the human pet, and rubbed his head up against _his_ human’s bare thigh, purring, before sinking his teeth into the meaty flesh.

“Holy fuck!”

It would be easier to get the blood if his human didn’t keep trying to push him away. He’d tell him that when he came back in a human skin.

* * *

_“To us, these creatures are unnatural. But what are we to them? Only understanding will bridge the gap and end the pointless slaughter.”  
-from the personal journal of Jonathon S. Peacecraft_


End file.
